Kaybree Versus the Angels

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Water and Wind

  The next morning after class, I headed up the winding staircase to Vormund tower. The Vormund crest seemed brighter today, as if a conduit into the Angels' eyes as they scrutinized my actions. The guards let me through without a glance. "Your mother's not here," one of them said. "Just leave a message on her door."

  "Do you know where she's gone?" I asked.

  Their eyes narrowed, and the same guard responded. "She'll send for you when she returns," he said. His tone told me he'd say nothing more, so I nodded and continued past.

  I checked my mother's office and Galen's quarters. Both empty. I wandered through the hall, searching for someone who might have a message from them. Maybe they're keeping a low profile until Traum leaves. My steps echoed in the halls. I picked the nearest door, the one to the armory, and turned the knob. It was open. "Hello?" I asked. The candles were lit, but no one was inside. "Anybody here?"

  Swords and shields mounted on hooks gleamed with a crystalline light. Set in neat rows, each type of weapon was grouped by length and type, forming lines of swords, pikes, and axes that seemed like stationary ranks of soldiers. Bronze breastplates glinted next to silver shields, with swords in golden sheaths hanging above them. Relics shaped like accessories hung from the other wall, their smooth surface lustrous, as if they had fallen from another world, or were made of the stars themselves.

  I picked up one I'd seen before, the ring Galen had let me use in our last training session. I turned it around in my hand, watching its color shift in the light like a rainbow in water. I remembered letting my mind flow into it before, and feeling that reservoir of power at my fingertips. Could I learn to control it? With Galen absent, should I continue practicing on my own?

  I'll be careful, I thought as I slipped it into my pocket. It wasn't stealing, of course. My mother had told me that I was the only one who could use the Weapons, and if that was true, then all they would do up here was gather dust and ornament the armory's walls. Besides, I would need one if another Angel struck.

  I shook away the thought as I left the armory. Whatever was happening, Galen's urgent insistence on my training ricocheted through my mind. While I enjoyed spending my nights at the Bard Song, a whole week without any word from Galen or my mother gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach.

  I sat with Mira while we ate lunch. "So there was a rumor that the Green Sentinel came in last night," she said, gesturing with her fork. "He usually rides in alone with his green cloak draped over his rangir, so when people saw this massive cloaked man, they thought it was him." She leaned closer. "But it turns out it was the Silent Lute!" When I kept chewing my bread, she frowned at me. "You know who he is, right?"

  "No idea," I said. "But I'm willing to go find out." I'd never seen Mira so animated before—and could hardly believe this dynamic, opinionated girl had never spoken to her classmates.

  "I can't believe you're so sheltered," she said. "Your mother really never let you go see any of the bards in the capital?"

  "I could barely leave the sagekeep."

  She blinked in surprise. "Wow. Everyone knows about the Silent Lute. He's just the most amazing lute player born in the last, I don't know, thousand years or so? He never sings, and no one has even heard him speak, but he can play the most incredible songs! I've heard he's going to join up with Winter Guardian to form a troupe." She paused. "Um, I'm guessing you haven't heard of them either."

  "Sorry."

  Mira shrugged. "That's all right. I'm sure your mother was just looking out for you. It can't be easy having a mother that's, well, you know." She smiled. "But at least you get lots of alone time with her right-hand man."

  "Not lately," I said. "I don't understand it. One day he's here, lecturing me about the importance of my studies, and the next he disappears. Sometimes I think he's so focused on his whole Vormund mission thing that he doesn't even notice I exist." Like my mother. Placing duty before family—and everything else.

  Mira took a bite of her cooked sprouts. "He could be really busy," she said. "Maybe he wants you to keep studying on your own."

  She'd come to the same conclusion that I had. And in a way, it made sense. Last time I'd finally been able to use one of the Weapons without endangering anyone's life. It was exactly in character with Galen's unorthodox training methods to leave me alone and force me to explore the relics on my own.

  "I've been thinking about the runes we've translated from the Judge book," I said. "I haven't talked about it with Galen or my mother yet, but I wonder if they know why the Angel is attacking."

  Mira set down her fork. "What makes you say that?"

  "I've been reading an old journal of my father's. He met my mother on an expedition out to the forest. I'm not sure what they were looking for, but it seems like it was something ancient and powerful, like a trove of relics. Whatever it was, it looks like they found it not long before the first Angel attack."

  Mira shook her head. "That couldn't be the reason for the first attack, though. The Angels' wrath came down on every city in Nordgard."

  "But why attack here twice?" I asked. "Maybe they came out in judgment against the other places, but it was . . . stopped here."

  Mira's eyes widened. "Your mother stopped the Angel attack. Do you think this second attack was trying to make up for the failure of the last one? But what does that mean?"

  "Whatever the Angels want, it's in that tower. And they either want it back, or want to destroy it." We finished our food in silence, and I was sure that both of us were thinking the same thing: if my mother kept stopping the Angel attacks, did that mean they would keep coming?

  As we left for class, we passed by a fountain outside. A light film of snowflakes covered the surface of the water like a powdery white veil. Pieces of armor and boxes of heirlooms were stacked beside the fountain, and servants in brown workman's clothes unloaded them from carts parked beside the sagekeep wall. One man removed a bone-crafted hunting horn and set it on a blanket atop the snow. I turned to Mira. "What's this for?"

  "You haven't heard? It's for the festival. The sages in Kant Vakt put on quite a show for the Winter Sagas."

  More snowflakes alighted on the ground around us. With winter coming and the bards staying here, it made sense that they'd be preparing for the Sagas. I'd completely forgotten about them in the confusion of the Angel attacks. The Winter Sagas came at Midwinter, my favorite time of year. Even though it was cold enough to freeze my nose off, the festivities and decorations made the cold worth it. Midwinter was the festival that celebrated our ancestors' survival on a frigid, barren island in the Western Sea, Byrjun. Because they couldn't leave their homes when the snows came, they had to build up stores of food and lay up enough to survive the winter. With so much empty time stuck inside, they developed a tradition of reciting the legends and stories of our people. These were the sagas that Jans was so passionate about.

  I watched the servants unload crates of cheese and fish. Bottles of milk sat by the fountain as well. Fish and milk products were the traditional foods to eat during the Winter Sagas. The sages would recite the Sagas in the sagekeeps, while families and bards would do the same in homes and taverns. It was traditional to only eat fish, cheese, and plain yogurt during the Winter Sagas, to remember the time when our ancestors had to subsist on those foods alone. As a pilgrim without a home for fifteen years, I appreciated that they kept the same traditions across Nordgard. It gave me a sense of stability.

  Jans strode toward us, his robes billowing in the icy wind. "Good day to you, Kaybree," he said. He carried a large tome in both hands. "Looking forward to the Sagas?"

  "Definitely," I said. "I get to take time off of reading dusty old books to hear dusty old stories."

  Jans chuckled. "Hopefully it will be at least tolerable for you," he said, holding up his book and brushing snow off of its cover. "They always have me read the Ballad of Giles the Philosopher. I'll be doing several recitations in my classroom during the festival.
You're welcome to stop by if you'd like. Right now I must return to my students." He smiled at Mira and then walked back inside the sagekeep.

  "We should go listen in," Mira said. "At least it won't be as noisy as the Bard Song."

  As we passed by the fountain, we saw Danelle and her friends watching the servants unload the crates. She turned toward us. "Oh, look who it is," she said, leaning against the fountain. She wore a fur-lined coat and gloves. "Actually, I was just hearing about you, Mira. Willard Matthias was talking about you."

  Mira's eyes lit up. "Really?" she said, though she hadn't seemed interested in talking to Will back in the tavern. She cleared her throat. "What was he saying?"

  Danelle shrugged. "He was wondering who stole his watch. Naturally, your name came up."

  Mira flushed. People talked about Easterners stealing things among the peasantry, but this was a brazen insult even for Danelle. Mira looked away, and Danelle's friends laughed. I glared at the Ambros, receiving a smirk in return. I knew at that moment that Danelle had only attacked Mira out of her hatred of me. A thought crossed my mind. My mother said I was supposed to do some practicing. I reached into my pocket and slid the ring onto my finger. The power I'd felt before was there, waiting for me. I reached out to it and nudged the water in the fountain. Just a little. I tugged at it, feeling its resistance.

  Water sprayed from the fountain, splashing the area around us. It hit Danelle in the back and drenched her clothes, making her drop her purse. Her friends chuckled. She glared at me, and I smirked back. Mira gasped beside me, and I looked back at the fountain. The water rolled back and forth, until it started to heave beyond its bounds. I removed the ring and willed the water to stop.

  It didn't listen. The fountain sprang to life, spraying water over the entire courtyard. The icy water slapped me in the face. The servants unloading the decorations stopped. Danelle threw back a strand of wet hair and marched up to me. "Was this one of your Witchy tricks?" she said, water dripping down her face. "You've just ruined my dress!"

  I thought quickly, creativity fueled by desperation. "Sure, and mine too," I said, pointing to my own drenched clothes. Another dress destroyed by my newfound powers. "It's not my fault the wind blew that water out of the fountain."

  "What is going on here?" said a voice from the side. It was Father Kraus. His bushy eyebrows were furrowed as he frowned at us. "You two, come with me. The rest of you, back to work. We need to get this cleaned up before tonight." Danelle started to protest, and he held up a hand. "With me, please, young Lady Ambros."

  We followed him back into the sagekeep, where he took us into a side room. Our footsteps left little puddles of water trailing behind. He took a deep breath. "I don't know what happened out there," he started.

  Danelle pointed to me. "She used her Witch powers on me," she said. "Didn't you see? I got wet first." I swallowed. Maybe this hadn't been a good idea after all. I thought about trying to hide the ring if the relics teacher decided to search me.

  Instead, he shook his head. "Strange things are happening around here, and you two are always in the middle of it. Relic classroom burned. Water fountain gone wild. What's next?" His eyes bored a hole into my skull. "I'd rather not involve your parents. Instead, I'd like the two of you to help out with the Sagas."

  "How?" I asked, exultant that he was taking this so calmly.

  "Come here tonight and help the crew unload the remainder of the items," he said. "If you do good enough work, then I'll forget any of this fountain business ever happened."

  Danelle cut in. "But I didn't do anything!" she said. "It's not my fault a fountain overflowed. And it's not my fault she burned up your classroom."

  "Did you not issue her that relic without my permission?" he said. She glanced away. "I thought so. This is how we're going to do it. I'm going to ask the night watchman if you two come in, and if he says you spent at least three hours helping to unload, then we drop the matter."

  Danelle's eyes widened, and I could see she was preparing another response. She seemed to think better of it, and instead turned on her heel and stormed out. I smiled at the relics teacher. "I'll be there."

  He watched Danelle go and let out a sigh. "I'm sorry you've gotten involved in this," he said. "Your mother's political standing is probably the reason you've attracted this kind of attention. Don't worry; I don't consider you responsible for any of this. I would like you to try to avoid provoking the young Lady Ambros, however."

  "Okay."

  He waved for me to leave. "Get along to class, then. I'll see what I can do about lifting your ban on relics class. Perhaps if you and Danelle are put in separate classes, then we can avoid situations like this in the future."

  My heart lifted. He was going to let me touch the relics again? "That sounds wonderful, Father." If I had more experience handling small relics, I knew I could learn to control the bigger ones. "I won't disappoint you."

  He smiled. "I suspect not," he said. "You are your mother's daughter, Kaybree. I expect great things from you." I was still beaming from his words by the time I arrived in my next class. Great things, I thought. My mind sobered as I considered the possible meanings of his statement. Did he suspect I had the power of a Witch?

  If he did, it sounded like his attitude toward them was quite different from Father Traum's. I would keep my ears open during relics class from now on.